"Angela! Angela wake up!"
She jolted awake, her nails digging into the upholstery of the old recliner. Above her stood Matthew, her assistant and manager.
"Angela, the director is getting annoyed with these cat naps."
Angela sighed, hoisting herself from the comfort of the chair. She stretched, feeling the tightness ease in her tired muscles. "It's just a few a week, what's wrong with that," she asked, combing what hair she had.
"'What's wrong with that?' Angela, you have about ten of them a day! Now, you either get your act together, or we'll both be out of a job. Not to mention the millions of Jenni fans waiting to see how she gets rid of the...of the..." Matthew scratched his head, trying to remember exactly what the plot of the new Jenni movie was.
"It's the vampire lord," she groaned. "My father turns out to be the vampire lord and I have to kill him."
~The plane rocked with a sudden jolt of turbulence.
Lita eyed the others, sweat running down her cheeks.
"It's ok," chuckled Ammara from the opposite isle. "It's only
turbulence."
The brunette sighed, releasing her grip of the seat.
Only those close by could see the tears mingling with her salty sweat.
Serena took quick notice and directed Ammara's attention to her.
"Ammara. Be patient with Lita," she whispered
so no one else could hear. "Her parents died in a plane crash."
The tall woman stiffened, biting her lip so as not
to react too much. "I'm sorry," she whispered back.
Serena faked a smile, leaning back into her seat.
She breathed in deep, a worthless attempt to clear her mind. So much
had happened in so little time. She thought she could handle it all,
but now it was catching up with her. After Darien's period of depression,
she felt the full fledged effect of being a Sailor Scout. *I've seen
so many innocent people hurt or killed,* she thought turning her eyes to
a slumbering Darien. *But...when Angel came into our lives only to be taken
away so violently...it all hit me. I can't stand dealing with needless
death all the time.* As she thought, her blue eyes fell upon Hotaru
next to her, who was rapidly aging.
"Hotaru," she asked, "How do you deal with it?"
The little girl looked up, confused for a moment
by the question. "Death," she asked, closing her book silently.
The blonde nodded, her pigtails bouncing. "I don't know. I
guess I just got used to it." Her eyes turned cold and cloudy, as
if she were in a deep trance. "Being a scout," she continued, "Especially
the Scout of Death, you learn how to deal with it. Sometimes it gets
to be too much and I just want to turn away from it all. But then
I tell myself that the moment I turn back, it will still be there.
So what's the point of hiding from it."
Serena blinked back tears. This little girl
knew so much, almost too much, about death. No one her age should
know death.
"Serena," Hotaru squeezed the princess's hand. "Do
you ever regret things you've done or who you are?" The blonde's
eyes widened, shocked by the question.
"I really don't regret who I am. Sometimes..."
her voice trailed off, her emotions getting the best of her.
"You regret not being able to help Angelin, don't
you," Hotaru guessed.
"Yeah. We should have been able to."
The little girl sighed, bouncing her head against
the cushioned seat. Her purplish hair flipped around her face and
for a brief moment, the ice in her eyes melted. "I guess I should
have listened to you. If I had been there, maybe then-"
"Don't think that, Hotaru dear," the princess choked.
"You did what you thought was best. No one knew how it would turn
out."
"I know. But still..."
~Small candles lined the cracked marble floor, shedding
little light on the run down palace. The throne room's tapestries
only weeks ago had easily hung on the walls, but the cords of many of them
had snapped suddenly. Battin knew it was a symbol when he realized
that everyone that fell was one with Angelin in it. "Death must have
won," he thought out loud as he examined one of the fallen tapestries.
"But she never came back. And that rat Cora stole my prize!"
His body glowed a dull black with his power. "Now, I have to start
all over again! Ugh!" The tapestry sparked, bursting into unnatural
flames.
~"Ms. Rose," the beer bellied director grunted,
"I suggest you get your act together before I decide to hire that Sarah
Michelle Geller person to be the next Jenni. She seems to be able
to slay vampires very well."
Angela rolled her eyes, a wooden stake in her
leather gloved hand. She hated the thought of that woman getting
her job. She was Jenni. No one could take her place as
the Vampire Huntress. "What do you want from me, Mr. D'Vento?"
The director grunted again, a foul smelling cigar
wedge between his fat lips. "All I want, Angela baby-" the woman
cringed at the nickname,"-is for you to stop walking to your trailer and
sleeping every time we get a 5 minute break. You either get use to
the unruly hours or I suggest you quit show business while your ahead!
Do you understand?"
She didn't care what the director told her, it was
her 5 minute break and she was going to do what she wanted. If she
needed to sleep, she would sleep.
"But, Angela," Matthew whined as he drove her home,
"You need this job until I can get you something better. Is there
something wrong?"
She groaned at him, running her fingers through
the short black hair on the top of her head. "There's nothing wrong,"
Angela spoke. "I just get tired quickly."
The car swerved off the road when Matt heard those
words. "Angela! You get tired every 2 or 3 hours! Are
you sick or something?" Turning the wheel sharply into the actress'
driveway, he let out a moan of frustration. "I'm having a doctor
look at you tomorrow. I'm really starting to get worried."
~Her house was warm, a small comfort for Angela.
She stood in the doorway, admiring the paintings hanging along the hall
way. Why she had bought them, she couldn't remember. There
was something about the images they portrayed. A blonde haired princess
in the arms of a handsome prince, a soft white castle surrounded with roses,
all of these held some place in her heart.
*Or maybe your memory,* she thought as she removed
her leather jacket. *No...lets just leave that alone. I have
so much going for me. I don't need my past interfering.*
"Angela? Miss," a grey haired woman
called from the dinning room entrance. "Miss, are you alright?"
"Yes, Kara. I'm fine." Angela turned
away so the woman couldn't see she was lying.
"Oh, now miss. I've known ya long enough to
figure out when something isn't going right." Kara smiled, wiping
her hands on her apron. The old maid was quick when it came to seeing
through barriers. That didn't mean, though, Angela allowed her past.
"There is nothing wrong, Kara," she spoke forcefully.
"Go finish dinner or something." Angela tried not to see the obvious
worry on the maid's face.
~Davi sat silently in the flames of the dining room fire place. He heard the voice of his former...no, his current master echoing through the halls. *She is lonely and afraid,* he sighed, giving no heed to the flames licking his skin.
*Give her time,* a deep, yet soft voice whispered
in the wind. *She is not ready to allow us and the Gem back into
her life.*
*I know Hetsba, I know.* Davi disappeared
into the flames to dance upon the smoldering logs. *But I don't like
it!*
Hetsba laughed, his voice suddenly light. *No one
said you were supposed to like it. You have to accept it, but not
necessarily like it.*
That thought did not comfort Davi one bit.